Cheeky King Read online

  "Thank you for the apology, Your Majesty, even if it wasn't necessary."

  "Len, please talk to me. I need to know if you're okay."

  I turned my gaze on him. And I couldn't look away. All the words that I’d bottled up for weeks spilled out. "No, Your Majesty. I am not okay. I had my heart broken by impossible circumstances. The man I loved refused to speak to me and called me a liar, even though I was doing my job and protecting him. And never mind that he lied to me as well. Then he played with my emotions, dragged me into an office, and screwed me without a condom. And then when I needed a little distance to process what the fuck had just happened, he had me pick up and take home his date. So no, I'm not fucking okay, Your Majesty. And my name is Penny."

  Oh God. He could have me put in the barracks for talking to him like that. Granted, it wasn't really a punishable offense, but he could still do it.

  "Penny. I’m sorry. After everything you’ve done for me, I didn’t mean to make you—If you just let me—"

  I shook my head. "As I said, Your Majesty owes me no apology. You are the king and you are allowed to do as you wish. I am a commoner. Royal Guard. I was never even destined to be Royal Guard, so it feels shitty to be congratulated on a job I feel like a fraud at."

  "You saved my life."

  "I got lucky. And I had a lot of help. Ariel, she's the good one. She should be on your personal duty." I clapped my lips together, knowing I'd spoken out of turn.

  "Penny, please. I miss you."

  "Begging Your Majesty's pardon, but you haven't missed me in weeks. You haven’t had a single kind word for me. Even when your dick was inside me you were angry. I think you miss me in your bed, and that’s all. There is a whole kingdom full of women who would kill me for the honor, so go sleep with one of them. You are entitled to your anger, but it’s hurting me, and I can’t let it hurt me anymore.”

  "Damn it, Penny, I'm so sorry. I screwed up. But if you’ll just give me another chance, I will never treat you like that again. I will treat you like the queen you could be. Please forgive me. I—I can’t stand to lose you too."

  He was good. This was the grand puba of apologies.

  Sebastian tucked his finger under my chin and tipped it up until I met his gaze. "Penny, please."

  He was so warm. It would be so easy to fall into his arms again for more. To pretend this horrible nightmare had never happened, that he could bring me pleasure and we could wake up in each other's arms and all would be right with the world. But that's not the truth.

  Truth or not, Sebastian didn’t seem to be giving up. Before I knew what to do, he slid his lips over mine, using the one thing against me he knew would work. Sex.

  I wanted him. I always wanted him. And I missed him. I missed being close to him.

  His tongue was expert as he licked into my mouth. A moan escaped my lips, and I couldn't help but lean into it. Lean into that kiss, to take what he was trying so hard to give me. His hands were on me, in my hair, on my face, pressing me to him.

  He slid his hands up my torso and cupped my breasts, and I cried out. He used the opportunity to slide his tongue in even deeper, making me spin.

  He wouldn't let me hide. Things happened in a blur. His hands were on me. Then my jacket was off, and my shirt was quickly unbuttoned. He was working the buttons of my pants, and I was pulling his shirt off. There was a flurry of tongues and mouths and hands and lips and bodies.

  In seconds, Sebastian had his hands in my pants, bypassing my underwear and going skin to skin, his fingers seeking my soft center. I gasped and held on tight.

  "Sebastian."

  He kissed me along my jaw. "Come for me Penny. Please let me show you how sorry I am."

  I couldn't help it. His fingers were expert. He knew it. He had one finger sliding into me, then coming back out to gently graze over my clit. And then I was coming, so hard, and loud, and he shoved his hands in my hair to keep me still. He continued to kiss along my throat and whisper, “I love you. I love you. Please forgive me.” But when he withdrew his finger and I started to come down from the high, I staggered back, shoving against his chest.

  "Penny. Don't push me way, please."

  I shook my head. Hastily I re-buttoned my trousers and slid on my blouse before bending down to pick up my jacket. When I turned to look at him I stifled a sob.

  22

  Penny

  Three Days Later

  * * *

  "I can't believe you're actually leaving."

  I shoved another pair of jeans in my bag. "I know. It's surreal right now."

  "Did you tell your dad?" Ariel asked.

  "As soon as I'm done here, I'm gonna talk to him. And then there's Michael. I don't even know what to say to him. Regardless, I have no choice. I can't stay here. Not like this. Not after everything that's happened. I need to get away from here."

  “Back to New York?” Ariel asked.

  I nodded. "I'll figure it out. New York is at least a good jumping off point. The benefit to having lived with my parents these last two months is that I saved some money. And with that hazard pay bonus, it was enough for a fresh start. But I'll get a job as soon as I get to New York and go from there.” Besides, Sebastian had bought the one painting when we were back in New York. Maybe I’d be able to sell another once I started painting again.

  Ariel sighed and lay back on my bed, her red hair fanning out. "I just can't believe any of this is happening. A year ago, we were trying to keep the Italian prime minister from falling over drunk in the gardens. And then he threw up on your shoes, remember?"

  I groaned. "Oh, my God, yes, do I ever remember. Of course, I got in trouble for that because the man slipped and fell and broke his nose."

  Ariel laughed so hard she clutched her sides. "I mean, come on, Penny. You tripped him."

  "I did not trip him. I couldn't walk in my heels."

  My friend snorted. “That was true. You've come a long way since then, Pen. You would make a hell of a queen.”

  I shook my head. "Not happening."

  Ariel nodded. "Well he's an idiot.” She held my gaze for a long moment before she asked, "So are you going to tell him that you're leaving?"

  Call me a coward, but hell no. “Trust me. He won't notice. I've written a letter to the queen saying thank you.”

  “I know you won't listen, but I think you owe it to yourself at least to say goodbye, to close that door so you can move on. Because you if you don’t, you will always wonder if things could've gone differently.”

  “He will destroy me if I'm not careful."

  "I'm sorry it didn't work out. Hell, even I got caught up in the idea of my friend the princess or the queen."

  "That was never going to happen, Ariel."

  "I know. Sorry. But it was easy to get caught up. How are you feeling?"

  I had no idea how to really answer that, but I told the truth as best I could. "Numb. I feel numb all over. I feel nothing."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be. I am going to start my new life. And it's going to be a good one. One where I'm doing exactly what I want to and it’s something I love. Easy, right?"

  "You bet.”

  “Next time say that with more feeling.”

  “Just promise you won’t leave without saying goodby—” Ariel said with a laugh that abruptly cut off as she stared at the door.

  I turned around to find my father standing in the doorway. "Ariel, do you mind if I borrow my daughter for a moment?"

  Ariel shook her head. "No, sir." She stood and gave me a tight squeeze. "Call me when you're heading out. I'll give you a ride."

  I gave her my best brave-girl face even though I was faking it. "Thank you." And then I turned my attention to my father while she let herself out. "I was going to come looking for you, Dad."

  He nodded before taking Ariel's former post on my bed. "It looks like you're going somewhere."

  "I am. I gave my notice yesterday."

  "Yeah. I got that. I wish you had tal
ked to me first."

  "You know I couldn't. If I had, I'd have chickened out. I wouldn't have done it because I would want to keep making you proud."

  "You always make me proud." His voice was soft.

  "No. I don't. That's Michael's job. He's just like you. Proud. Good at what he does. So good.”

  Dad nodded. "I know you don't love this. I know you did this for me. And even though I pushed you into it, I wish you hadn't. After losing King Cassius, I'm more aware of other people's happiness right now. I know you aren’t happy. You’ve been doing this for me."

  "It wasn't that bad."

  He laughed. “While you were watching the prince in New York, I was keeping tabs on you. You were painting and you were happy.”

  I slid a glance to my father. "Yes. Being there made me happy. For the first time, it was like I could breathe. But I came back home ready and willing to do exactly what was asked of me. Unfortunately, the more I do that the more little pieces of me die."

  Dad licked his lips. "I can see it. At first I wondered if it was the prince. I worried that something must've happened in New York."

  Oh fuck. I sat perfectly still. "Dad. I would never—" I stopped, because it was a lie.

  "You think I'm so blind that I don't see when my daughter's in love?"

  My mouth hung open. "Dad?"

  He held up his hand. "Don't go getting your panties in a twist or whatever the saying is. I knew Robert wasn't right for you because he worked too much and because of your brother. Those two weren’t hiding anything from anyone. I have access to too many damn cameras.”

  “Wait, you’ve known this entire time?”

  “He’s my son, Penny. Of course I know that at the very least he’s bisexual.”

  I blinked at him. “I can’t believe you knew. I think he’s been tearing himself up about it.”

  “The two of you know I work in intelligence, right?” My father shook his head. “I thought Sebastian was grieving, and he is, but also he's heartbroken. But you were accepting missions, handling yourself like a machine, like you were a different person." He cleared his throat. "But I miss the person you used to be, my vibrant daughter who was always so full of life. I miss her. I'm not going to ask you what happened in New York with the king. I'm just going to ask that you at least have the courage to say goodbye to him properly because he's hurting and he misses you. And I’m afraid of what happens if you leave with no goodbye.”

  I had no idea what to do or say. But then my father stood and enveloped me in a tight hug. "I love you, Penny. Always have. Your brother and I are close, but you, you are special to me. You are every part your mother."

  I hoped like hell he was right about that.

  23

  Sebastian

  So apparently being king didn’t afford me the right to win in a basketball game. Somehow, playing with Roone and Lucas made me realize I needed to up my game. These two, my brother and my best friend, were making me look bad. But I was saved by Ethan on the sidelines, clearly waiting for me. After another loss, this time against Roone, I threw in the towel. “You guys keep playing. It looks like I need to deal with something.”

  “You go ahead. We already have all your money,” Lucas threw out.

  “I have to agree with Lucas. You owe me another fifty quid, mate.”

  On the islands, the main currency was the Euro, which was sort of ridiculous because we were in the Caribbean, but hey, when most of Europe switched over, so did we, mostly to keep our markets in line. We depended so heavily on Europe for so much of what we imported it made sense at the time.

  Ethan handed over a towel when he approached. “Your Majesty, a moment of your time.”

  I frowned. “Ethan, when you say things like that it gets me a little worried. Am I fucking up that badly? Are people rebelling, about to have a full-scale mutiny? Or worse, are they going to overthrow me?”

  Ethan’s pursed lips were my only indication that something was actually wrong.

  “Your Majesty, if you don’t mind, what I need to say requires privacy.”

  “Okay, let’s go to the cabana.”

  The cabana was more along the lines of a massive game room: pool tables, video games—anything to entertain. It was really a whole sports complex that included a basketball court, a couple of tennis courts, a bowling room, and of course the Olympic-size pool. Once we were inside the main building, I shut the door behind us. “What’s the problem?”

  Ethan frowned and started to pace. “Your Majesty, I apologize but I have no other way to say this. The matter is delicate.”

  Oh shit, it had never once occurred to me that Ethan might know about me and Penny, about what we’d been doing. We’d been discreet, sort of. No, you haven’t. You’ve put her whole career in jeopardy. You risked her embarrassment and humiliation. Why had I thought that her father would never find out? Why had I thought that we could keep this up and no one would know? Well now, someone did know: her goddamn father.

  “Ethan, I have no idea what to say.”

  Ethan frowned. “Your Majesty? I’m talking about the test results on your father’s blood.”

  I stopped short. “Give me the quick and dirty of the results.”

  “Sire, please sit down.”

  I wanted to resist the command. I really did. But he was right because I was suddenly too hot and I could hear my pulse in my own ears even as the tips of the cartilage throbbed with every heartbeat. “What does it say?”

  “Our supposition was correct. He was indeed poisoned. Your father was dosed with RC4. It’s a chemical compound developed by the Germans a few years ago to treat epilepsy. But it never got to human trials though, as it seemed to kill off the animal test subjects. And interestingly enough, when researchers tried to find out what was killing the subjects, the substance was undetectable. That’s why it took so long to find it. It’s difficult to trace and can only be done with a blood test if you know what you’re looking for. It is also highly regulated. Because of its potentially lethal results, only research labs can access it. I checked; no labs on the islands have made any such purchases. It would have had to be smuggled in.” He shrugged. “Or walked in through the front door, brought in by a diplomat.”

  “Jesus Christ. In the old days, the Winston Isles was a haven for rum runners. But modern-day smugglers? It doesn’t make sense. Our drug enforcement laws make these islands an unlikely target for drug smugglers. No one wants a life sentence.” I ran my hands through my hair. “Who would do this?”

  “I did everything I could to save him that night.” Ethan inhaled deeply, as if trying to gather his composure. It gave me a second to really assess the man in front of me. He was strong.

  He didn’t bend easily. I could see the father that Len had talked about it New York. But I also saw the softer version of him, the one who was kind and trying to do the right thing, the way he’d been guiding me as best he could.

  Ethan gathered his resolve and continued. “So we know someone did this intentionally. Now we need to find out who and why.”

  “Who would kill him?”

  “My best guess is the same person who tried to kill you in New York.”

  I frowned. “I still don’t think there is motive to kill me.”

  “There is something else, Sebastian.”

  "Fuck, I get the impression I’m about to get a history lesson. Please explain."

  Ethan nodded. "Because you are. The Regents Council was created by King Jackson to make sure that the king always had the ear of the people. Each of his trusted advisors held a seat until their death, at which point a new member would be selected, vetted, and voted on. By special dispensation, the monarch—in this case the king—could name additional seats but no more than five in his lifetime.

  “As times changed to include populace voting, the prime minister was also included on the council. The laws also state what happens in the case of abdication and restoration. As you know, your great-great-grandfather was deposed then restored t
o the throne upon discovery that his brother conspired to poison him and make him crazy, thereby leading to him being deposed.”

  I frowned. “I used to make Dad tell me the legend all the time. I always thought it was just a story.”

  “It wasn’t. His brother fed him psychotropic drugs for months to make him seem unfit to rule and the council deposed him. Later, the queen discovered what his brother had been up to.” He shook his head.

  “I don't understand what the old story has to do with me?”

  “Through a loophole in the law, there was an extra set of Regents Council votes. The law states that each monarch has his five appointed votes for the duration of his life, not the duration of his reign. The law further states that in cases where the monarch is seen as unfit to rule, those votes are held in trust for the heir apparent.

  “In this case because of the scenario of one brother being reinstated and the other brother still being alive, there were an extra set of voting seats. Both the quack king and his brother had voting seats. But since your great-great-grandfather was determined unfit, his voting seats passed on to the next heir apparent. In this case, your grandfather.”

  I frowned. “So Grandfather had ten voting seats?”

  Ethan shook his head. “No. When he saw your uncle abdicate his role as heir apparent, he understood the pressures of being king. He wanted to see how your father would take to the role before giving those particular rights. When your father came of age, your grandfather abdicated and passed on his five voting seats, and watched to see how your father would perform. He saw the difficulties your father was having adjusting to the role, so he put them in trust for you to get on your twenty-fifth birthday.”

  It then struck me. I had enough seats to truly disrupt a council vote. “Did my father know?”